Well I reckon Spring has sprung, anyway. The sun is out, the birds are tweeting, a hard-hitting reek from the pig farm fills the village. Two women on horseback clipclopped past me in the lane: absolute archetypes with the waxy waistcoats, blonde ponytails etc.
Bit unfathomable those horsey women, aren’t they? Utterly dedicated to the beasts their whole lives. Horses must be one of the few areas where females venture into the masculine world of obsessive, exclusive hobbying.